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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597974">hunnybee</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowcosm/pseuds/meowcosm'>meowcosm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic, F/F, Fingering, Morning Sex, Pet Names, Tenderness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 00:26:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,836</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23597974</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowcosm/pseuds/meowcosm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>honeybee, honeybee<br/>there's no such thing<br/>as sweeter a sting</p><p>- </p><p>Bernadetta loves Leonie. Leonie loves Bernadetta.</p><p>They do, together, what lovers do.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Leonie Pinelli/Bernadetta von Varley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>hunnybee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In the aftermath of the Great War, much had changed in Fodlan. It was to be a world of new goals, of change, of difference. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A world of new truths. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Amongst those truths was the disappearance of one Count Varley; presumed deceased after a trail of his belongings was traced to a lake near the Varley property. It had been a death which the people of the territory had grieved, at least in public, though one which produced a sparsely-attended funeral. Still, it was to be a short grief; the house had borne an heir, and as snowdrops covered sparse winter-frozen grounds throughout the fields, she was to take the helm. To face the world, to organize, to be strong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But in the cloister of their shared bedroom, tucked away in the House Varley, Bernadetta was free to want. Free to have whatever she wanted, to explore what she wasn’t sure about, to be touched- to be cherished. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>To be, in Leonie’s words, her </span>
  <em>
    <span>princess</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Princess”, of course, was an exaggeration. Bernadetta was nought but the heir to House Varley, one who had renounced the title of Count to Leonie upon their joining. Initially, even with the acknowledgement of it as being solely a nickname, she had been hesitant to allow Leonie use of it. Worried endlessly that it would make her feel inferior, remind her of the aching societal gap between them, even if Leonie had been the one to propose it in the first place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bernadetta remembered often, and quite fondly, how Leonie had won her over on the matter. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t phase me. You know- it’s nice, actually. Thinking about it like that.” In bed with her at the time, Leonie had paused then to kiss up and down her neck, baring her teeth ever so slightly at the most sensitive points. “My princess. A pretty noble girl, with your Crest, your manners.” Another bite to the neck, another pitchy moan of catharsis released from deep in Bernadetta’s chest. “But you’re still mine. A commoner, with all this blood on my hands.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bernadetta knew well what Leonie had done, both in the war and the years preceding their reunion. Had watched a lot of the former, just as involved in it as she was. Heard about the latter when they drank together, full of mirthful recounting of the bandits she’d routed from her village, a line of business which led quite sweetly into the work of a paid mercenary. Riding many miles on horseback, growing her hair wild and untamed, seeing the world and taking what she wanted from it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the time, she had been rather ashamed of the speed and passion with which she touched herself to those thoughts. Had played coy about sneaking back to her room, muffled her little moans in the familiar softness of her pillows. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nowadays, such fantasies were a hardly-needed thing. Leonie was more than happy to give her bloodstained hands in her place, to curl them up inside her where it pulsed; where it felt so good. Because she was a princess, deserved to be treated like a princess, and all those who had wronged her would fall at Leonie’s blade. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Makes me feel good to call you that,” she’d said, “I want you to know how good you are for me.” Her voice had dipped as she’d continued, mouth dipping lower to kiss the crown of her breast; dexterous hands gripping her thighs in time with each prospecting movement of her lips. “My princess, Bernadetta.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps it had been the growing wetness between her thighs that had made the final convincing argument. It hardly mattered, not then- Leonie had always been excellent at plucking her worries away like stray threads, sewing them up, fixing them. At making her want, want anything, want </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Princess.” There had been a growing rightness in the word, a mass of creeping, overtaking vines spreading through the cracks and soothing any hesitancy. An aching subsided, replaced tenderly with need. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Am I your princess, Leonie?”. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Words like warm honeywine, administered for a sore throat. That sent Leonie’s eyes melting, wanton, full of a glistening, lustful love. Bernadetta had been almost entranced by it, the rapid lighting of a fire- but their gazes had not met for long enough afterwards, her lingering replaced with the further dip of her head to where Bernadetta’s breasts laid on her chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Forever and always. Never gonna have to doubt how much I want you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One hand had drifted from Bernadetta’s thigh, came to rest on where her silken purple robe had slipped from her shoulder, exposing her nipple. Had brushed it, teasingly, sending another warm sting through Bernadetta’s body. Erased all thoughts of resisting the matter any further, not when it brought rewards like this. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the morning, when Leonie left the bed to make breakfast, Bernadetta had felt comforted by it all- had ran her fingers over each lovebite, felt its residual sting, retraced the sweet words Leonie had spoken as she’d tended to each little mark. Thought about how happy Leonie was to have her, how much she’d done and wished to do for her. Had put her hand on where her breast was still exposed to the chill of the open window, drew away from the bedsheets, and excited herself for when Leonie emerged again into the privacy of their shared chambers- a hand between her legs, following a learned and patient rhythm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since then, it had become a frequent part of their relations, their closeness, their touches. Leonie, lance-toned shoulders propping her up on the bed, hovering where Bernadetta laid still and gentle. Exposed, the both of them, to be gazed upon and to gaze in return. Bernadetta could lean forward whenever; whenever was best for her, whenever she felt ready. Only then would Leonie press her lips to the warm shell of her ear and whisper, against the sweet, cloaking silence of the bedchambers- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mine. My Bernie, my girl. My princess.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Need you, Leonie.” Quiet words, barely above a whisper- still, they were all she needed to hear. Nothing else was to matter from then onwards, not as Leonie brought her hand downwards to brush wind-light over her stomach, a single digit venturing further towards Bernadetta’s still-aching clit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Princess.” A feathery, fluttering touch over the pit of her bellybutton. “You’re soft, these days.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A pitchy squeak, close to a giggle, rose from Bernadetta’s chest. “Ah! Y-you’re flattering me, Leonie.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s because I love you. You know, I got told once that keeping someone fed is the biggest part of love.” Leonie dipped down, pressed a kiss to Bernadetta’s lips, let her loose hair hang wild and free over her face; a burning orange sun, melding into a purple cusp. Placed her hand firmer over Bernadetta’s stomach, too. “Think I’m doin’ a good job?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Teasing me, too?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not teasing. Love you- love how you look. Just wanna let you know that, before I do anything” A grin, tender and sweet, emerged on Bernadetta’s face, and Leonie returned it. Made a gentle motion down, further down Bernadetta’s body, with her hand, caressed the lips obscured by a soft, gentle moss. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You look good, underneath me. Wanna give you everything you want.” At that, Bernadetta’s breath picked up, heightening alongside her thrumming pulse, rabbit-fast and even. Excited, anticipating. “Think we’d make a good kid together?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We- I don’t- could we?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leonie giggled, that time. “Heh. Not right now, but who knows? I’m sure Linhardt could work something out with his magic, one day.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, Leonie.” Bernadetta’s hips bucked forwards, gravitated towards where Leonie had poised her fingers near her sensitivity. “Don’t want to think about our f-friends while you’re about to, um. Finger me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fingering you, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah! If you want to. It’d- um, be nice. Feel nice.” Instinctually, another sigh released from Bernadetta’s lungs- the relief, subtle of expression. At its conclusion, Leonie dipped down to kiss Bernadetta again, catching the last exhalation between her teeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You trust me, princess?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another kiss was planted on Bernadetta, her eyes fluttering closed as Leonie’s tongue brushed her lips affectionately. As her fingers drifted over her other lips, so close to where Leonie’s own cavalry-strong thighs parted Bernadetta’s own, having grown soft since the war. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re doing good. Alright to be spread out like this?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh.” As if to demonstrate her willingness, Bernadetta bucked her hips upward again, almost high enough to press against Leonie’s thigh. The pressure of Bernadetta against her legs, straddling her- it reminded Leonie of their first forays into intimacy with each other, how Bernadetta would grip her shoulders right and rub, clothed and whimpering, until she climaxed. Even if they had progressed past that point, to think of it was rather exciting, and Leonie felt herself get wetter, breathier, just as needy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Roll your shoulders for me, princess.” Leonie commanded. Without hesitation, Bernadetta obeyed, withdrawing her hips from their raised position and placing her weight once more on her shoulders. Shifted them backwards, forwards, tugging and rubbing at the clean fabrics of the bedspread with her hands as she did. Leonie acknowledged the ritual with a smile, rewarded her performance with another tender brush of her fingers near her clit. Shifted closer again, to part Bernadetta’s legs, spreading them outwards like butterfly wings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How wonderful it is</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Leonie thought to herself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>that I get to have you like this</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Try not to cage your body up, alright?” It had been a problem, when they’d begun undressing for intimacy, how Bernadetta tensed her body during touch, as if resisting something, or trying to still her nerves. It was hard, she found, to stay in her body, to remain in place. Not after everything, even though the source was gone. So each time, Leonie would have her stretch her muscles, release the stress and burden they held within them, all of the aching and self-minimizing that Bernadetta had placed within herself released. Would reward her at the end of it all, for how had she worked to express her own feelings. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm. I-I won’t, Leonie, I’ll try my best.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good.” Leonie noted the expectant look in Bernadetta’s eyes, and smiled. “My princess.” At the relief of being fulfilled, of being loved, Bernadetta gasped again, wistful. “Want me to put a finger inside of you, hm?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“M-more than anything.” To have Bernadetta make such a statement- Leonie considered that more than enough to motivate her, to have her trace the soft, plush skin around her upper labia to where her flesh became rawer, more exposed. One finger at first, exploring the territory, gentle- avoiding any sudden movements, with Leonie keeping her eyes on Bernadetta still, watching for panic or worry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Feel good, princess?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah.” As if to illustrate her point, Bernadetta thrusted her hips upwards again, spreading her shoulders as she did. Leonie withdrew her finger at first, doing her best to keep teasing, to resist going too far, too soon. Even if Bernadetta was so wanting, so needy, Leonie hardly saw it fit to give up on her own game- not quite yet. Instead, she resumed her gentle pace, introducing another forefinger as she did. Moved them in, out, never quite reaching deep, leaving only the most gentle brushes against Bernadetta’s clit. Still, even with such gentleness, Leonie could tell from the twitch of Bernadetta’s thigh against hers, evident even through the clothing which remained on Leonie’s legs, that they were getting somewhere. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Be patient with me, my princess.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A groan exited Bernadetta’s mouth- still, she relaxed somewhat from her position, allowing Leonie to move against her slower, more teasingly. Enabled by the relaxation of the rhythm, Leonie leant down again, ghosted her lips over Bernadetta’s once more. Dipped down after a second, placed a tender kiss where little whimpers danced out of Bernadetta’s throat in even tempo. Drew back only when she was ready, at the same time that she pressed a third finger against Bernadetta’s sex- this time achingly, tentatively close to her clit, allowing Leonie to catch a heated moan in her mouth once more. At the same time, prying her other hand away from where it rested against Bernadetta’s thigh, to rest once more on the soft expanse of her stomach. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Want me to do that thing I do, Bernadetta?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without hesitation, and despite the building need to rut against Leonie’s hand, to do anything to release the pressure, Bernadetta nodded decisively. And with the same confidence, Leonie began sweeping motions over the soft, new chub of her belly, as if drawing thread together- all the while continuing her motion below. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m holding you, princess.” Another motion, of pulling string, of pressing against the soft nub at the precipice of Bernadetta’s sex. “All put together. You’re beautiful.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All Bernadetta could do was wrench her eyes shut, curl her toes and whine, hot breath coming out in pants. “Ah, Leonie, you’re- right there, keep doing that-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-yes-” Bernadetta moaned, only to be cut off by a squeak of surprise as Leonie dipped her fingers in deeper, reaching her entrance. Hovered them around, moving inside of her, with one still poised over her clit- Bernadetta supposed, in the last rational part of her mind, that she had Leonie’s extensive archery training to thank for that movement- really, the precise use of her fingers in general. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like it when you’re confident with me, Princess. Can you manage that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hesitantly, Bernadetta nodded, still resisting the urge to push Leonie deeper inside- knowing that she’d be denied, at least until Leonie got what she wanted. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is a game</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she reminded herself- cheating did not translate into rewards. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can you tell me what you want?” Leonie’s other hand left Bernadetta’s stomach, and she paused her comforting movements in the gathering silence, punctuated only by the sweet, wet sounds of Leonie’s restrained yet continuous movements against Bernadetta’s entrance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Deeper. More.” A gap, Bernadetta panting into the empty air. “Please, honeybee.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the emergence of Bernadetta’s own nickname for her wife, it hardly took Leonie very long to hurry her movements once more. Nor was it a difficult matter to convince her to make them more thorough, deeper, consuming ever more of Bernadetta’s faculties simply to process. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So good,” Leonie moaned, breaching Bernadetta again with her fingers, “so pretty. I can feel you aching for my touch, you know that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“L-Leonie, yes, I want- I need- t-tell me how much you love me, please!” Her last syllable louder, more passionate, thanks to Leonie increasing her pace, transformed into a wanton moan, Leonie looked over Bernadetta, grinning. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Love you, princess.” The slick movements inside of Bernadetta, against her clit, became more rapid, increasingly strong, filling Bernadetta- making her pant, making her rut harder against the rigid back of Leonie’s hand. With Leonie’s other hand returning to Bernadetta’s body, caressing her breasts, bringing as much friction as possible between her hand and the pale, sensitive nubs emerging from Bernadetta’s milk-white skin, it began to feel impossible for Bernadetta to contain herself, and with only a few more strokes against her clit, Bernadetta let herself sink into willing limpness across her body, moving only from the force of her orgasm. Only after a minute of panting, that Leonie spent still poised above Bernadetta, taking in the sweetness of her pleasure, could she speak again. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...L-Leonie, honeybee, I-I- sorry.” Meeting Bernadetta’s gaze again, finding it fixated on the bed sheet, Leonie looked down to the place she was observing, finding it stained with slick. As if to quash any shame, Leonie withdrew from her hovering position and laid her body, tired from effort, next to Bernadetta, thigh covering the wet patch entirely.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to apologize, Bernadetta. Not ever.” Burying her head into the crook of Bernadetta’s neck, Leonie dug her body into the softness of the mattress, and placed her hunting-garment clothed legs over Bernadetta’s bare ones. “I like it when you leave evidence.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm, Leonie… T-thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No need to thank, either. Love you, princess.” At that, Bernadetta let out an idle giggle, and Leonie shifted her slick-free hand over to Bernadetta’s still-bare breasts. At the gentle tweak of a nipple, Bernadetta squeaked again, and dug her face into the pillow, still facing Leonie. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stay with me?” she mumbled, half-muffled by goosefeather stuffing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Til lunch. Then I’m gonna bag you a deer.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Course I am.” Comforted by the radiant confidence Leonie emitted, Bernadetta nestled closer to the warmth of her body, pressed herself up against her half-under, half-above the sheets. “Told you I’m gonna keep you well-fed. Especially if I wanna have a family with you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Y-you were serious about that…?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leonie shrugged against Bernadetta’s body. “Heh, if you’re interested.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...I-If we had a daughter, we wouldn’t be able to call her a princess…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“True. You like the idea of being my queen, then?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gently, Bernadetta pulled Leonie closer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do, honeybee.” Let out a contented sigh, sheltered by the strength of her wife’s frame, the tightness of her hold. “Love you.” </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you for reading</p><p>i love leodetta very much! i hope you enjoyed this piece</p><p>if you did, i really appreciate comments and kudos</p><p>follow me on twitter @millimallow for art and fanfiction!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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